Gundam Games
by Loved-chan
Summary: The Gundam Games are a unique form of suppression used by the Alliance to prevent the colonies from revolting. So what happens when the son of a pacifist gets sucked into the web of death along with an assassin,a mercenary, an orphan, and an heir all fighting for their lives? The games suddenly got a lot more interesting. 3x4,5xMeiran implied ,2xHilde
1. Chapter 1

So this story is based **loosely** on The Hunger Games Suzanne Collins. Obviously with less character death (because I love the GW boys too much to kill them. Sorry.)

Disclaimer: I do own neither Gundam Wing nor The Hunger Games and I don't pretend to. Got that?

Prologue 

A slight rustle of grass shocks me awake and if it weren't for the ivy wrapped around my waist, securing me to the tree, I'm sure I'd have taken the 15 foot drop to the ground below. I'm confused for a moment trying to remember where I am and why I was asleep in a rather large tree instead of my bed. Glancing down at the ivy I realize that I'm also not wearing my own clothes and I'm clutching a dull knife in a white-knuckle grip. I nearly drop said knife when the realization of where I am hits me.

_The Games._

"I need to stop trying to convince myself that it was just a dream." I mumble, slowly working out the knotted ivy around me. Two weeks ago this nightmare crossed the border into being my reality and, with my luck, I'll never wake up.

_Reaping Day: May 2, 195 A.C._

I stood quietly with a few of my sisters on the side of the square watching the other citizens of Colony L4 being herded and separated into pens like cattle. Children 11 and under this way. Teenagers this way. Parents wait on the sides. It was disgusting and humiliating. All around me the air was reeking with fear and hopelessness. It took all my will-power to stand straight and not succumb to the desperation trying to permeate every pore of my being. The only reason I bothered pretending to be indifferent to the struggling crowd at all was to please the tall, stern man seated on stage. _Does this make you proud, Father?_ I thought bitterly.

My father is L4's Alliance Representative and a dedicated pacifist meaning that my family was never entered into the reaping. My twenty-nine sisters and I are instead forced to wait on the sides and fall victim to every angry glare and dirty insult the reaped families can find time to give us in between praying for their kin.

Every year the Alliance chooses one child per colony between the ages of 12 and 18 to participate in universal massacre known as the "Gundam Games." The chosen "tributes" are shipped off to Earth and forced to kill each other in a huge arena while their parents and loved ones watch, helpless, from across the galaxy. The Alliance uses The Games as a way to remind the colonies who has the power. Apparently, there was a time before the Alliance had complete control in space, though not much is known about it, during which the colonies joined forces to try and fight the Alliance's growing influence. The result was the same as if the colonies had posed no resistance at all. The only difference being the amount of colonial casualties and now the Alliance uses the Gundam Games as a way to remind colonists how stupid we were to fight them in the first place.

"Quatre, look. They're starting." One of my sisters whispered harshly. I knew she didn't actually want me to watch the drawing of who will be this year's tribute, she just didn't want me to get in trouble with an OZ soldier for not paying attention. It's almost surprising how a tiny action, or in-action, can set the soldiers off into a violent frenzy. _And they're supposed to be protecting the peace. _I nodded to her and turned back to the stage where a plump woman was reaching her hand into the bowl containing the name of every child in our colony, except my own and a few of my sisters'. I watched as the lady, I had forgotten her name and it didn't really matter seeing as we'd have a new reader next year anyway, pulled out a single slip of white paper and slowly unfolded it, clearly enjoying its dramatic effect.

"Elle Ramuno." She said happily voice.

Complete silence followed the announcement and I watched as a small girl, no older than 13 I'm sure, slowly padded toward the stairs of the stage. She was crying and her slight frame shook so badly that I could see the tremors clearly from across the square.

"No! Oh, God, no!" A woman cried from somewhere in the crowd. I turned in search of the voice and saw a tall woman struggling in the arms of her husband as she watched her child march the stairs toward certain death. Two more little girls sat sobbing at her feet, their tears mixing with the dirt they sat in.

Suddenly all the emotions I'd been fighting to ignore forced their way to the surface. Every heart-breaking wail from the woman was another wave of agony sweeping into my soul. That girl had a loving family. She had sisters. I could picture her growing up, helping her siblings with homework, studying in school, walking home with friends. I could see her falling in love with a boy, getting married, waving goodbye to him when he left for work every morning, having her own kids, and eventually watching one of their names being drawn from that clear bowl promising death. That small, innocent, helpless girl being sacrificed for crimes she never committed. Crimes that none of those kids committed.

"Wait! Wait a moment!" I called out. I had to stop it. I had to save her. She had a future, a purpose, I knew she did. The moment I spoke up both the girl's walk and her mother's wailing stopped. All the eyes in the square turned to me. "I-I volunteer!"


	2. Chapter 2

Alrighty then here's the next chapter. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sucks I know.

Chapter 1:

As soon as I said it I knew there was no going back. _I'm the new tribute. _I thought. _I'm going to Earth. _The OZ soldiers were on me in record time, pushing and virtually dragging me onto the stage. As we passed the girl I'd volunteered for I gave her the most reassuring smile I could. She was safe now. Everyone was safe now if only for a moment. She just stood in stunned silence as I passed. I didn't hold it against her. Nearly all of the L4 citizens despised my family for being exempt of the reaping all these years. Was I expecting her to fall over herself with gratitude? Of course not. This was what I deserved after all. I would happily pay for my families excuses if it meant protecting someone regardless of thanks.

When the soldiers and I had reached the stage the plump reader glanced over my person critically, like one would judge a piece of meat, I suppose, if I'd ever known someone with the luxury of doing so. L4 wasn't a wealthy colony by any means and any meat available was meat that was eaten. No questions asked. Apparently, the reader found my appearance satisfactory enough because she waved the soldiers away and motioned me up to stand beside her before the crowd. Out of the corner of my eye I could see my father frowning and stiff in his seat.

"So please, tell us all the name of our _brave _young tribute." The reader swooned, her eyes shone with excitement. Volunteers were rare on our colony, especially when that volunteer is the son of a member of the Alliance.

"My name is Quatre Raberba Winner." I told a camera set in front of me. It would be broadcasting the L4 drawing sometime tonight for all the colonies and Earth to see. By the time the rest of the universe saw it I would be well on my way to Earth and the arena.

"Wonderful!" She exclaimed. "Isn't this wonderful? Well I suppose that's all we have time for, Ladies and Gentlemen. We simply _must _be on our way." The soldiers seized my arms again and guided me through the doors leading into our colony's capital building. I could understand the Alliances rush to get out of the colony after the drawing. They needed to have the tributes away from home before colony citizens tried to revolt, not that anyone would. People in space are too afraid to fight back. They're too scared of losing what little they have. Once we were inside a soldier lead me to a private room and told me that I had two hours to say my goodbyes.

I had probably fifteen minutes before they'd have all my loved ones gathered up so, in the meantime, I sat and pondered my situation. I was going to be sent to Earth, paraded around in the capitol of the Alliance's choosing, thrust into a death field with 23 other teens, most probably as prepared for battle as I was, meaning not at all, and killed gruesomely. It was sad, but true. _At least I saved that girl. _That alone was worth everything to come. For the first time in my life I'd done something I could be proud of. _If only I could save more people. _I thought. _Stupid. I can finally save one person and now I think I'm some saint. _I smiled sadly and sank further into the dingy leather chair.

"Quatre!" I jumped at the sudden voice and found myself scooped up into familiar arms.

"Iria-" I started already mapping out a touching speech of how much I'd miss her and the rest of the family. It wouldn't be a complete lie. I would miss my sisters, if only because they provided a buffer between myself, my father, and our ever opposing views. My family had never been close. I suppose it had something to do with my siblings and I being grown in test-tubes. Or maybe that there were sisters who had already grown up and left home before I could walk. Why bother being close to a sibling who existed merely as a replacement for another? I could guarantee that my father would start growing another heir as soon as my feet touched down on Earth. There would be no pretending that I would come back or even that he cared if I should. _Business as usual._

"Quatre!" My sister pulled me back to the present. "Quatre, why would you volunteer? Do you even _know_ that girl?" I frowned at her and wriggled out of her suddenly constricting arms.

"Does it matter if I knew her?" I asked her.

"So you don't! Quatre, why are you doing this for her?"

"Because nobody else was!" I shouted. "How can you all sit by and watch children be sent to the slaughter! That girl wouldn't have lasted ten minutes in the arena!" I knew I wasn't being fair. Iria was twenty-one, way too old to volunteer, but even she had her chance when she was my age. All of my sisters had even the other citizens could have done something at some point, but no one had. _This isn't a colony of pacifists, we're just a bunch of cowards._

"And you will, Quatre?" She was nearly screeching at this point.

"It doesn't matter if I do." I mumbled fiercely. _No one would miss me. Father will make a better heir. You all will forget me. _Iria made a frustrated noise and gripped my shoulders tightly, holding me still.

"It does matter! Its matters to all of us. Especially to Father." She spoke calmly, trying to soothe me into accepting her reasoning. I refused to look at her.

"Why? Why does it matter to Father?" I stared into her blue eyes, daring her. What I was daring her to do I couldn't even begin to imagine, but I was daring her. Tears welled up in her eyes, but her mouth remained shut. I wasn't getting an answer. "It doesn't matter anyway, Iria." I explained slowly, taking her hands off my shoulders. "Its too late. Is there anything else you have to say?" I reverted back into the safety of a polite facade.

My sister stared at me for a moment longer and I could sense such immense sadness from her that I almost began my goodbye speech again. She just wiped at some transparent tears before giving me another tight hug and retreating to the door. "Just... Try and stay alive, Quatre. Please." And then she was gone.

I was still stunned at my sister's strong emotion when my second guest pushed the door open and lunged for me. Immediately I was engulfed with a warmth and compassion that could only stem from one man.

"Rashid." I sighed happily, trying to soak up the calm feelings from the tall man as he hugged me. Beneath the layer comfort I could barely sense his worry and sadness and I was so grateful to him for just pretending to be the rock I needed at the moment. Rashid was my best friend and captain of the Maganac Corps, a tiny group of fighters who tried to protect the citizens when OZ decided that things were just too quiet. Rashid was also the only person who knew about my gift, my ability to sense the emotions of those around me. The fact that he would go through the trouble to project as many calm emotions as he could at the moment was enough to bring me nearly to tears. He was a good friend. I'd miss him.

After a few moments the seven foot tall man released me and stepped back. I instantly missed the comfort, but I held back. On Earth there would be no Rashid to comfort me. No calm rock at all really, I had to get used to the separation now.

"Master Quatre, you'll need to be very careful from now on." He rumbled. That was Rashid, no beating around the bush, no accusations, just acceptance.

"I know."

"We're very proud of you, Master Quatre." He laid a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Just know that you are more than a group of cells born from a test-tube. You are a person despite how you came into this world, Quatre. Take pride in yourself." I sighed as he finished his speech. Rashid and I had argued over this many times over the years. The entire Maganac Corps was built of test-tube babies, but they'd banded together and made something of themselves, something I was still struggling to do.

"I know, Rashid." I smiled. This would be my last time hearing that lecture. Rashid smiled back and proceeded to remove the faded, brown goggles from around his neck. He held them in his hands for a moment before silently slipping the strap over my head and letting it rest against my collar. "Rashid..." I started in wonder.

"Keep them. As a good luck charm from all of us in the Corps." He told me, squeezing my shoulder in reassurance. Those goggles had been passed from each captain of the Maganacs to the next for generations. It was an honor to simply touch them, but to keep them. To take them with me when I left...

"Rashid, I can't." I began to remove the goggles, but a large hand stopped my smaller one.

"Keep them." He repeated. "That way I know you'll return. You have to give them back at the end of the games." He smiled and gave a loud rumbling laugh at my tentative smile.

"Thank you, Rashid. I'll keep them safe." I promised. It was the first time I'd ever purposefully lied to Rashid. I_ would_ take care of the goggles till my last breath, but I wasn't planning to return them.

"I know you will." He told me before looking out the window over my shoulder. I turned and noticed that it had started raining. I almost smiled at the sight. The colonies didn't need rain, unless they were used to grow agriculture, so it was a rare sight. It was a tradition on L4 for it rain after the year's tribute had been chosen, as if the whole colony were mourning. I hadn't expected anyone to bother for someone like myself. The son of a man helping to imprison them.

"Well I'm sure there are others waiting to say their goodbyes, as well. Take care, Master Quatre. Don't lose hope. You could win." Rashid said as he gave me one final hug and comforting smile. I wanted to tell him to stay, that I didn't want any of my sisters' goodbyes and I didn't know anyone else on the colony well enough for them to miss me. Rashid and the Maganacs were the only people who cared about me, they were all I needed. But I kept my mouth shut. Rashid was having a hard time covering his sadness and if he stayed both of us would fall apart and that was something I couldn't afford. We had to part ways with dried eyes and stone hearts if the Alliance was to see me as a contender in the games. The Alliance was going to film my boarding the shuttle to Earth and weakness on camera would make me a target before I even reached the arena.

I watched Rashid go and then retreated back to my chair, head in my hands and said a silent goodbye to every Maganac soldier by name. I was halfway through the list when my third and final guest opened the door to my room. In the door stood Elle, the girl I'd saved.

"Why?" She asked from the threshold. She didn't elaborate and I didn't need her to.

"Because it's something I could do."

"But why _me_?"

"Because you were there." I sighed. It sounded so cold out loud, but it was the truth. I didn't choose to save her because she was important to me. It was just because her name was pulled out and I needed to finally protect something. She let a small 'oh' slip out before her face was blank again.

"Do you want to come in?" I asked. She looked surprised for a moment. I guess she just assumed that I would be cold and mean, because my family and I kept to ourselves and rarely went into town.

"No." She replied, finally looking me in the eye. "No, I just came to say thank you." She blushed. She'd probably never imagined having to thank a complete stranger for saving her life for no reason.

"You're welcome." I smiled. She smiled back, shyly and turned to leave.

"Goodbye, Quatre, I wish you the best of luck." The door closed softly as she left.

I sat in silence for a few minutes staring at the ceiling and wondering what I would do next. If I died during the games no one would really miss me, but did that mean I was ready to end my life at the ripe old age of fifteen? Was I through with living? Had I fulfilled my life's purpose? Honestly, I couldn't think of any reason that I should want to keep living, but some part of me also wouldn't resign myself to die. Some part of me wanted to fight and that part was pleading its case when someone else opened my door.

"Hello, Quatre." She said stepping into the room and taking a seat in one of the smaller armchairs. I felt guilty for a moment because this tall woman with black-purple hair seemed to recognize me, but I had no idea who she was. She smiled at me as if sensing my confusion and introduced herself. "My name is Lucrezia Noin. I'll be your escort on Earth."

I'd completely forgotten. Each tribute was assigned both an escort and a mentor for the games. The escort as a guide around Earth and the mentor as one for the games. Both were equally important to a tribute's survival and it was a relief to see that my escort seemed friendly and competent.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Noin." My family was nothing if not polite.

"And such manners." She smiled again and I sensed wave upon wave of good humor. It was almost like she was my friend and we were both laughing at some secret joke. "Aren't you just the little prince? Well, I think we'll get along just fine, Quatre."


	3. Chapter 3

So the first 2 chapters are done! The boring part is out of the way now I can start with the REAL action.

Thank goodness.

Chapter 3:

Miss Noin, a handful of OZ soldiers, and an Alliance camera crew were all that greeted me at the space-port and even that felt like too much. Miss Noin had told me in the room before we left that I should completely ignore the cameras and just focus on getting in the shuttle. She said the Alliance just wanted to see whether or not I cried after being chosen and then proceeded to compliment me on my emotional strength. _You have no idea._ I thought.

The space-port was flooded with the film crew's excitement and the soldiers' anxiety. I latched on to Miss Noin's steady optimism as solidly as possible and forced myself to face ahead. I'd never been to the space-port before. Colony citizens weren't allowed to travel without special Alliance permits, which were rare and only used by those who needed them for work.

"This way, Mr. Winner." Miss Noin said from beside me. She gestured to a long white tunnel branching out of the crisp, gray lobby where we stood. The cameras were everywhere. I was kind of bothered by the title she gave me. She'd called me 'Quatre' earlier, after all.

"Please call me 'Quatre', Miss Noin." I frowned as we walked toward the hall. She gave me that same secret smile that she did in the room and kept walking.

When we finally reached the shuttle I barely had time to find a seat and secure my belt before we took off. The feeling of shooting through space at so many light-years per minute was like nothing I'd ever felt before. It was both exhilarating and nauseating and more than once during take off I was asked if I needed a bucket to empty my stomach in. Thankfully I lasted the entire take off period without vomiting on the stylish, ;leather chairs.

Once we'd been given the 'okay' to unbuckle our belts and roam around the cabin I found Noin once again at my side.

"You did beautifully back in the port, Quatre." She told me. I was caught off guard at the high praise. I had only walked to the shuttle.

"But I didn't do anything." I told her honestly. If she was going to believe that everything I did during the prep for the games was "beautiful" or "wonderful" I was having second thoughts about entrusting her with my life. Not that I had a choice anyway. She waved my comment off and then motioned to a short balding man sitting in a corner. As he slowly glided over to us she introduced him.

"Quatre, this is Instructor H. He'll be your mentor." The man gave a nod in acknowledgment as he sat. I could sense mostly calm, confident feelings from him, but there was also a layer of superiority to him. Not bad qualities for a man in charge of my life. Once settled, he gave me a cold once-over and then stared straight into my eyes in a way that was extremely unnerving. He either didn't notice or didn't care that I was uncomfortable with his stare and kept it up for over a minute. Once satisfied he gave a small smile to Noin, which I took as a sign of approval.

"Tell me, boy..." He said turning back to me. "What do you know about a thing called empathy?" _Empathy? What does that have to do with keeping me alive? _

"It's when you sympathize withanother person's emotions." I answered. The instructor's eyebrows drew together and I gathered a hint of frustration flowing off him. I guess my answer wasn't what he'd been hoping for.

"Very true. So tell me, what is an empath?" He asked cryptically and his smile took on something almost sinister.

"I'm afraid I don't know." I told him honestly. If he was making such a big deal about it then it must have been something I needed to know.

"An empath is someone who can sense the emotions of those around them." His feelings of superiority were becoming more pronounced and mixed with something that definitely felt sinister. _How did he know?_ How could he possibly have known about my ability and to be able to put a name to it... There was a lot more to my mentor than I'd previously thought. He stared at me, waiting for an acknowledgment, but I was too stunned to form words. He seemed to take my silence for denial and kept speaking. "I know what you are, Quatre." He smiled.

That snapped me back. There was a reason that nobody back on L4 knew about my condition. It was dangerous for people like myself, people who were different. Hardly a week went by when there wasn't a story about some young psychic being taken by the Alliance, presumably to be experimented on and never heard from again. This instructor held my life in his hands whether I was in the games or not.

"What are you going to do?" I asked as I gripped my seat's armrests and forced myself to appear calm. Noin sat next to me either too interested or too bored to speak. Instructor H watched me calmly and I could sense a bit of sick pleasure in him at my frightened expense.

"I'm going to train you," He said seriously and all pleasure was gone from him in that instant. "and make sure you win the Gundam Games."


	4. Chapter 4

Okay... So the last chapter was ALSO a lot of talking. But don't worry! The other boys will start making their appearances soon -hint- next chapter -hint-

I also want to thank everyone whose added the story or me to their favorites. It absolutely makes my day when FFN sends me those emails telling me you did. I also want to say thanks to everyone who left a review or reveiws. I love them!

I don't own Gundam Wing or The Hunger Games. Oops.

Chapter 4:

The trip to Earth took twelve hours by shuttle and I was repeatedly reminded that there was a room prepared should I decide to rest during the trip, something I was most definitely _not _comfortable doing while in the presence of Instructor H. I couldn't help being suspicious of a man that held that much power over me. He didn't do much to soothe my fears either as he moved away to tinker with some metal device after telling me I would win the games. He worked for the Alliance, what would stop him from turning me in the moment we reached Earth? _No. _I thought bitterly. _Its too late to find another tribute before the games begin. He'll just wait until they're over and I've won. Then he'll turn me over to the mad scientists and accept all the glory of having a winning tribute. _I sighed. There was nothing I could do about it until he made the first move. He obviously had something to hold over my head, but I had nothing to hang over his.

The rest of the trip was a dreary blur of card games with the ship's copilot, brief conversations with Noin when she wasn't busy with meetings on the vid-phone, and short naps filled with the horrors that may await me in the arena. That being said, I was almost happy when the pilot warned us to buckle our belts because we were going to enter the Earth's atmosphere. Then I remembered what awaited me on the ground below.

Once we'd touched down I was immediately swept up by a group of OZ soldiers and pushed into a car. Noin sat down beside me gave my shoulder a reassuring pat on my shoulder.

"Once we stop at the Capitol you'll be taken to see your stylist. I've already spoken to him about your costume for tonight's parade. Everything should be in order. All you have to do is keep your chin up and follow directions. You'll do wonderful, I'm sure." I nodded and glanced out the window taking in the splendor of nature that I'd only ever seen in pictures. The grass was so green. The trees so tall and I'm sure I must have gasped in surprise when I saw the delicate leaves swaying in the wind. Everything was so astonishingly different from colony where I'd grown up. _Everything is so alive!_

I didn't notice that the car had stopped until the door on my side opened and I was pulled out by a soldier. I stopped just outside the door to a building and let the gentle breeze wash over me and felt the sun warming my face. It was incredible and I would have stood in that spot forever if I hadn't felt a cool hand on my shoulder and Instructor H's voice telling me to keep moving.

Preparation for the tribute parade was traumatic at best. First I was stripped naked by three strangers who seemed to think I was some kind of simpleton for not willingly undressing before them. Then I was "showered." Let me just say that being showered by three strangers is frightening enough without being shoved into a glass tube that filled with a slimy, green liquid that "disinfects the skin and cleanses the pores." I'd rather rot in my own filth for the rest of my days than experience it again.

After that my stylist made his appearance, as strange that appearance was. I'd never seen a man wear glitter before and certain not on every inch of his face. My heart sank despite his friendly confidence. Could I trust a glitter pen to dress me? The Games were all about winning the favor of sponsors, drawing attention, but not making a fool out of one's self. Even the best warrior couldn't win without food or water donations in a desert climate, or a blanket in the mountains. This man with a sparking face was my first impression to the whole Alliance controlled Earth. I was very nervous.

He took no time to get down to business like taking my measurements and styling my hair. I was surprised to find out that he and Noin had already planned out my costume. I felt a bit better knowing that Miss Noin had a say in what was created. I knew she wouldn't dress me horribly... on purpose.

Once my stylist had the measurements he left to put some last minute touches on my costume. I waited for a good ten minutes before the curtain parted and he appeared with a large black bag draped over one arm. I could feel his confidence like heavy ocean waves. He was sure that whatever he held in that bag was incredible and I felt nauseous. I'd seen the past parades. It was rare that a tributes costume received any positive praise on the colonies. It wasn't unheard of for a tribute to appear scantily clad or even naked in their chariot. It was even a common, though entirely wrong in my opinion, past-time for colonists to bet on which colony would have the worst costume. Thus, it stands to reason that I, a small, self-conscious teenage boy, would be worried.

My face would not stop burning.

Their costume, the super magnificent, blow-your-mind-amazing costume that Noin had planned out had me dressed up like a fairytale prince! It was humiliating! I almost resigned myself to death in the arena, not even Instructor H could turn this joke around. I was dressed in a ruffled sort of white shirt, sure enough there was glitter woven into the fabric, with jet black knee-length trousers dotted with small white jewels, and a deep navy over-coat also dazzled up with gems. Complete with the white gloves and long, sky colored cape, I looked like I jumped out of Cinderella and I remembered that the prince in the story didn't have a fairy, god-mother. The prince was on his own.

Thus began my pacing.

Noin glided through the curtain a few minutes before I had to move to get into the chariot. Her kind smile was more like a happy grin and I could sense her pleasure at my outfit like a swarm of bees trying to infect me with happiness. It's hard to be around joy-filled people when all you want to do is be mad.

"Quatre, you look amazing just like I knew you would!" She told me adjusting my cape slightly. I almost gaped at her.

"M-miss Noin, you can't be serious!" I pleaded. "The tributes' costumes are supposed to coincide with the products of their colony. Mine is a mining colony, what possible relevance could this outfit have?"

"Why, Quatre, it has all the relevance in the world." She explained and bitterly I thought, _Yeah I bet it does since "the world" only constitutes Earth and I've seen how crazy you people are. _Slightly shocked at my own bad attitude I focused more on what Noin was saying. "These jewels on you are all from space mines." I didn't want to further my awful mood by reminding her that _my_ colony mined for metals, not jewels. It was too late to change anyway.

At that moment my stylist returned with the final touch for my horrendous exhibition. What was a prince without his crown after-all? The thing was huge and made to look like it was made out of varying sizes of crystals. Diamonds seemed to be spread randomly, though I doubt it was so, in between the crystals and over all it did give off a very regal air. If I was a _mermaid_.

I sighed dejectedly as the crown was placed on my crown and I was led away from the curtained room.

Eventually I was directed toward a large black horse and helped up onto the chariot harnessed behind the beast. I'd never seen a more powerful looking horse. It wasn't the largest in the room by any means, but I could sense fire in its blood even without my empathy, which never worked on animals. I only had a moment to be worried, though, before my vehicle started moving along after the others.

_ Time to start the show._


	5. Chapter 5

Next chapter Yay!~

Chapter 5:

The chariots were lined up by colony number making me number four with about thirty feet between the other riders on either side. Our procession moved through a dim tunnel for a few moments with only the echoing sounds of hoof beats surrounding us. I gripped the reins of my horse tightly as the nervousness of the other tributes washed over me. My heart was beating loudly in my ears and I was afraid that my legs might give out any second.

I shut my eyes and tried hard to find something, _anything_, to distract my heart from the pounding of the other contestants' fears. Somewhere in the pool of emotions around me I found a strange sense of calm, almost indifference and as soon as I felt it the emotion spread over me, like a veil, blocking out almost all the anxious dread permeating the air. I could almost breathe without my insides seizing up with worry.

Even so, I kept my eyes shut until they were shocked open by the lights of the parade arena.

The arena was huge with seating on either side for spectators and a long, straight track for the chariots to march on. Large televisions screens were positioned around to showcase footage of each tribute as they passed. The tsunami of emotion that hit me when I stepped into the light threatened to knock me from my platform. There were so many people. I'd never seen such a crowd, even when the whole colony was forced into the square, and they were all cheering.

Vaguely, I realized that looking frightened and ready to faint wouldn't inspire many spectators to support me, especially since I was already dressed in such a non-threatening manner to begin with. Instead of shaking in my glittered shoes I opted to check out my competition. Now was as good a time as any and I would draw my attention away from the mass of people waiting for my untimely death.

It was hard to see any other tributes because of the way we were lined up, but I was able to make some observations about the contestant directly in front of me. Obviously, he was from L-3 and I noticed that his stylist had taken advantage of his physique and left him upper body bare for the crowd. I felt slightly less repulsed by my own garments when I noted that at least I was covered. The L-3 contestant, I saw, was also very tall and thin, but that was all I could see from my station. I turned to one of the television screens to try and see something of the other tributes when an object hit my chest and landed on the platform below me. When I glanced down I noticed a small rose between my feet.

I looked up to try and decipher where it'd come from when the cheering around me suddenly became much louder. There was also not a small bit of wonder and awe mixed in with the joyful emotions swimming on all sides. I narrowed my eyes in confusion when I saw the cause of the commotion.

There on one of the large screens was some sort of glowing star.

Of course, it wasn't really a star and after a moment of utter disarray I realized it was me who was causing the uproar. Or more precisely my costume. My crown was shining brightly on screen, shifting from bright white to soft yellow and up every bit of glitter on my person was alight in a changing current of silver and gold. The lights overhead were also catching the soft blonde of my hair, making it sheen in a way that seemed wholly mystical. Overall I still looked decidedly like a prince, but also like something immortal and powerful.

As soon as I was on the screen I was off again and another tribute took my place. A Chinese boy about my age now stood proudly draped in yard upon yard of beautiful silk. He must have been from

L-5 since it was a traditionally Chinese colony famous for its silk products. I could tell from his expression on screen that this boy planned to win and nothing would stand in his way. It was unnerving to think that I would have to kill him or he would me.

I shook my head once to dislodge the thought. I didn't want to think of killing anyone. Instead I stared straight ahead for the rest of the march. Looking at the other tributes would only bother me more.

At the end of the track the chariots formed a half circle around a stage to listen to the president's opening speech. The President Khusrenada was already standing there when our carts came to a halt. Even though I was one of the chariots closest to the stage I still couldn't see the speaker clearly. I didn't need to though. Sixteen years of the games had burned the man's image into my brain. Tall, strong, and polished were the adjectives that first came to mind.

I'd also heard sixteen variations of the same speech over the years so instead I gave in to my curiosity and glanced around at my competitors. Furthest on my left was the L-1 tribute. He was short with dark brown hair. He might have been of Asian descent, but I couldn't tell clearly from my position. He was covered in a silvery paint and his clothing was stiff as though it were made of something other than cloth. Belatedly, I realized that he was supposed to appear made of steel, L-1's chief export. It was a clever enough costume and from what I could sense his emotions were very similar to the cool metal. Cold.

Next in line was the L-2 tribute. L-2 was the center of technological evolution so it made some sense for the contestant to be equipped with a series of wires and colorful buttons. The surprising aspect of the costume was the long brown braid draped over the contestants shoulder with an assortment of wires woven through. I was nearly certain that the tribute was male, but the braid was somewhat confusing that theory. He, or she, was smiling brightly from behind the gray horse and though I could still feel some nervousness from him, most of the emotion emanating from him was excitement. He was enjoying the show!

I turned to the tribute on my left, the one from L-3, and felt my face heat slightly. The boy's stylist had gone all out on the boy's appearance. The tall youth was without more than just a shirt. In fact the only article of clothing he had equipped seemed to be a pair of worn camouflage pants with holes in the knees. His torso was decorated with ropes of bullets and knives and he was barefoot. Overall he looked more like someone coming out of the arena rather than someone going in. L-3 was a major weapons manufacturer for the Alliance, but that didn't explain how seemingly comfortable he was wearing the arsenal. I reached out with my empathy slightly and was met with something that was both surprising and not. The tiny island of calm I'd come across in the tunnel had apparently come from this human armored tank. I took a deep breath and moved on. It was frightening to think I'd have to face that in an enclosed area in about a week. Having already checked out the L-5 representative I moved on down the line.

Upon further observation the other tributes were a mixture of muscular beasts and small children who probably wouldn't last two hours in the arena. It made me wonder what my chances were and I reached under my fluffy collar to trace the strap of Rashid's goggles with my finger. Whatever my chances were I was going to use them as wisely as I could.

Okay! So. I didn't begin Trowa's introduction with the famous "beautiful green eyes" because frankly how in the hell could Quatre be expected to see them from 20 feet away? I can't even tell someone's eyes from 5 feet! Sorry, but its true. Also there will be better descriptions of the other guys once he (Quatre) is actually introduced to them.

Au revoir.


	6. Chapter 6

So, I've taken to listening to music while I write this story. Its amazing how productive I get while blasting"Get The Party Started." Go figure.

Chapter 6:

After President Kushrenada's speech the tributes were led away in the same single file that we entered in. Cheers followed us all the way back to the chariot room.

"Quatre, you were wonderful!" Noin greeted me once I'd stepped off my platform. I sighed, but accepted the praise. "Well you must be tired. It was a very busy day, wasn't it? I'll show you our quarters for the rest of the week."

"Thank you, Miss Noin." I mumbled as the last of my energy suddenly left me. I'd be content just to lay on the floor, really. I wasn't sure I had the energy to make it up any stairs. Noin gave me a small smile and then led the way to an elevator. I'd never ridden on one before. The few elevators on the colony were located in the mines or the space port, both places I'd never ventured before.

"Now, since there are twenty-four tributes its been arranged for two tributes to share each floor. We will be sharing with the L-3 tribute and his escort. I hope you don't mind." Noin explained as the elevator stopped on the third floor and the doors slid open. What did it matter if I minded? It wouldn't have changed anything.

The third floor opened into a large living room with a few couches and chairs placed around a large wall mounted screen. There was also an open doorway that led to a dining room and a hall with doors on either side. The entire place was pristine. Having grown up with twenty-nine other kids the cleanliness of these rooms was going to take some getting used to. Hopefully I wouldn't be here long enough that it would be an issue.

"Well," Miss Noin said pulling me out of my observations. "I'm sure you'd like to get out of that costume. There should be a room down that hall with your name on it and clothes in the closet. I'll be out here making some tea." I nodded and made my way down the hall. I wasn't sure how I felt about sharing space with the L-3 tribute. _It could be a good chance to find any weaknesses of his, but it __would also leave me open for investigation. _I thought. _I could try and form a sort of alliance with him, but he seems confident enough already. I doubt he'd want or need my help_.

By the time I'd surfaced from my thoughts I was already changed and back in the living room. I wasn't alone, though. The L-3 tribute was leaning against a wall and looking out the glass doors of the balcony. There was also a tall, red-haired woman sitting on one of the couches watching replays of the parade. The woman glanced up when I approached the room and smiled brightly.

"Hello, there." She greeted, standing and moving to stand before me. "You must be the L-4 tribute! Kat, right?"

"Actually, it's Quatre. Quatre Winner." I told her, smiling nicely in greeting.

"Oh. Well my name is Catherine. I'm the L-3 escort and that's Trowa Barton." She explained gesturing toward the boy by the wall. I looked over prepared to say hello and noticed that he hadn't looked up from the glass. "Oh, Trowa, why don't you come say hello. You don't need to be so rude!" She sighed and looked back to me. "I'm sorry. He's just a bit shy." I could have laughed. Shy wasn't the word I would use to describe Trowa's attitude. It was more like he didn't care.

I noticed Trowa shifting from the corner of my eye and I looked back to him. He stood tall, probably about six feet, with a mop of brown hair covering half his face. He was staring at me.

"Hello." He said softly and then glided from the room. Well, he didn't actually glide, but he walked silently and so gracefully that he might as well have. Catherine huffed and moved after him and I smiled a little. She wouldn't get him to 'behave'. I was a little bothered that his emotions hadn't changed at all during our brief introduction. He just felt so... empty.

I moved into the dining room in search of food and the tea Noin had prepared and came upon a scene that made me rethink going to bed hungry. Instructor H sat at the large wooden table, apparently sipping tea and chatting with Noin and another man whose back was facing me. The instructor glanced up and saw me in the doorway.

"Quatre, come on in." He smiled. The sinister feeling was almost gone, but the sleazy confidence was still wafting around him. As he spoke the other man turned in his seat and I noticed that ,like Instructor H, he wore a long white coat. This man, though, had a large face-mask covering his nose and much calmer emotions.

"Quatre, is it? I'm Doctor S. Trowa's mentor." He explained. We shook hands and he excused himself. Secretly I wished I could escape with him. I didn't want to be in a room with the Instructor even if Noin was there as well.

"Sit down, boy." He ordered and I sank into the chair Doctor S had vacated moments before. It was no accident that my chair was closet to the door and I got the feeling Instructor H knew that. He smiled. "Tell me, have you ever had any combat training on L-4?" _Combat? On a colony filled with pacifists? _

"I have some basic knowledge of self-defense." I told him, accepting a cup of tea from Noin and taking a sandwich from the mountain plated before me. "I've also been fencing since I was very young."

"Good. That's a start anyway." His confidence felt stronger. "What about knives?"

"I can handle one." I said. It was true. Rashid had made sure that I could defend myself if I was ever attacked. Now I was thankful for the training that I had abhorred only yesterday. I sighed. "But I've never tried to hurt anyone before."

"Well, you're just going to have to learn, because in that arena killing is surviving." There was that sinister feeling again.

The next morning found me in the training area below the building. I stood in a far corner fiddling with the hem of my baby-blue training shirt. I'm not a fashion conscious person by any means, but it didn't seem fair that the other tributes got sweat-pants and t-shirts and I was forced to wear pastel and capris! Alas, Noin refused to give in to my pride as a man and continued to dress me like a doll. From my corner I watched the other tributes size each other up as they stretched. Suspicion and distrust hung over the room like a cloud. I watched the younger and smaller tributes glance around in fear and wished that I could help them. _I'm having enough trouble just watching over myself. I can't afford to protect anyone else. _With that thought I moved into the group and began to stretch.

Last night Instructor H had determined that I had some talent for strategy. Probably some time between our chess match and when I convinced Noin that as a growing boy I _needed _the last piece of key lime pie. He insisted that I focus my training on preparing for whatever environment I was thrust into rather than weaponry. I was assured that death by starvation was much more painful than that by sword. It was hardly comforting.

Now I stood with the rest of the would-be killers listening to the head trainer introduce the different skill areas available to us. We were promised time to explore whichever of these areas we wanted after a bit of "evaluation" as a group. There was an obstacle course set up in the middle of the room that we would take turns completing every morning before individual training could commence. It was a wonderful chance for me to size up the competition and embarrass myself at the same time.

I was the third person to attempt the course, figuring that I might as well get it out of the way. I'd managed to run through the path of tires and climb up the rope ladder well enough, but when I reached the monkey bars my endurance ran out. I'd made it to the third rung when my hand slipped and I plummeted onto the mat beneath me. I was fine, but for a stinging behind. I could feel the smugness of the tributes who'd already made it across and the ones that were sure they would. I could even sense some amusement from a few persons in the room. My face burned with shame. Winners weren't supposed to be laughed at.

Someone grunted disapproval from above me and I looked up into the frowning face of the L-1 tribute. He stared at me for another moment before leaping off the platform in front of the bars, landing somewhere near the middle rungs. I stared after him as he swung his way down the line. He was so strong.

"Hey, don't mind him. He's just upset that not everyone is superhuman like him." A voice spoke with laughter. I turned and saw the L-2 tribute standing before me with some sort of grin on his, definitely a he, face. Cheerfulness and the ever present excitement rolled off him. "Need a hand up?" He asked offering an open palm. I gripped it and allowed myself to be pulled up. The boy was slightly taller than myself with blue-brown eyes. I imagined that they might flash purple when his emotions ran high. This boy was so out of place anything seemed possible. "The name's Duo. Duo Maxwell."

"I'm Quatre Winner." I shared. His grin grew wider and I wished we weren't tributes because otherwise I would have been his friend. I know I would have. I smiled in return and followed him back to the group. We stood beside each other and watched the rest of the tributes attempt the course. I wasn't the only one who failed, thankfully, but I was still the first and it still stung.

Trowa was the fastest through the course. Even the L-1 tribute, Heero as Duo informed me, couldn't move as fast as the tall boy. Heero, though, exhibited much more physical strength than most of the other tributes. After the last tribute had finished the trainer informed us that we could break up and train alone. It was then that Duo punched my shoulder in a friendly gesture and promised to see me at lunch. Part me was happy to have a friendly face, especially since I could feel Duo's genuine emotions toward me, but another part warned me that friendships here and those in the arena were very different. I could save myself a lot of grief if I killed this friendship before it began.

But I didn't want to.


	7. Chapter 7

**I am SO SORRY for the late update. I've been alternating between busy and lazy the last few weeks. But here it is! I hope the chapter makes up for the delay. **

Chapter 7:

The rest of my morning was spent attempting to memorize an extensive list of edible plants. Two other tributes joined me at the booth and whispered to themselves as they studied. Sometimes I looked around to see what the other tribute's had been drawn to. It wasn't surprising to see Duo tying together strands of dynamite and grinning at the fear on the instructor's face when he produced a lighter. The braided boy was too comfortable with the idea of the games to be totally helpless. _He would be a good ally_, I thought. I frowned at myself for the thought. Allies didn't exist in the Gundam Games because there could only be one winner. At some point we'd have to fight each other. Better not to pretend it wouldn't come to that.

Trowa spent the morning at the rope and trap station. I would have thought he would be more interested in the weapons area. It was predictably the most popular station. Heero stayed at the medical area, which was a very good idea. I made a point to try and remember to visit it in the afternoon. The L-5 tribute and some others practiced combat training on some mats in a corner. It seemed more of a way to intimidate the competition than actually practice. And it worked.

Lunch was set up in a large room with small tables and scattered chairs. I got in line quickly, knowing from back home that if I wanted anything good I had to grab it before someone else did. It came as quite a shock when I saw the huge banquet set up for us. The layout could feed a hundred people and we were only twenty-four! Even with Duo piling food in a small mountain on his plate behind me there would be enough to feed all the escorts and mentors to.

"You ever seen that much food?" Duo asked once we'd settled at a table. Unconsciously I'd chosen a seat near the door again. Duo dug in without waiting for my reply and I smiled. I would deal with any problems in the arena when they happened. For now I had a friend for the next six days. "People would kill for this much food on L-2." He mumbled and I suddenly didn't feel just his usual cheerfulness anymore. In its place was a horrible sadness. It was deep down, almost hidden, but it was still there. Duo wasn't as care-free as he appeared to be. I understood what he meant though. Most colonies didn't grow their own food so it was rationed by the Alliance and quite unfairly. I didn't know much about the other colonies, but I remembered that L-2 and L-3 received far less food than they needed.

"Why?" I asked more to myself than Duo. "Why do they ration it that way?" I heard a snort and looked up into his angry face and near-violet eyes.

"Because they're scared." He said mockingly. "L-2 and 3 are a bunch of street-rats. If they don't watch us carefully we might get into trouble." He smiled at the end and it wasn't his friendly grin. It was dangerous. Duo was much more that he appeared. I nodded once and we both went back to our lunches.

That afternoon I studied basic aid and medical treatment. It wasn't very difficult, but it was a lot to remember. I noticed that the other tributes mostly avoided the weapons station after lunch and I could already see small alliances already forming. The strong fighters were seeking each other out, trying to build a force of mass destruction and every now and then a weaker tribute would attempt to secure themselves to a more powerful opponent. Sometimes it worked.

Heero received many offers throughout the afternoon. At one point he even had five or six of the beefier tributes following after him like puppies. He pointedly refused whatever they said to them, sometimes throwing in insults if they seemed cocky, and continued weaving long grasses into sturdy mats. Meanwhile, Duo had decided to try his hand at a now empty weapons area and immediately found his calling. Hidden among the swords and arrows was a long silver and black scythe. Duo's grin could have probably lit the whole Alliance base. I wasn't looking forward to seeing him in battle. He was way too happy holding that blade.

Trowa had moved on to the edible plants station I had vacated. He also had a group of followers after lunch, but rather than refusing them, like Heero, he simply ignored the requests. I wasn't surprised. Trowa didn't seem like a person who was interested in others. The L-5 tribute was also approached by other tributes and quickly shot down any other requests by shouting that real warriors fought alone. I could feel his pride from across the room.

–

The next three days of training went by much the same as the first. Alliances were made and the heavy suspicion in the air remained as thick as ever. Duo stuck by me during lunch and periodically we would meet at a station and chat a bit. Heero stayed mostly by himself except a few times when Duo would wander over and try to get a rise out of him. I wondered if maybe they got along better on their private floor. Heero's emotions still felt incredibly cold, but they would thaw a bit when Duo was around.

Trowa was always alone. A few times another tribute would attempt to draw him into a conversation, but he would just ignore them or walk away. I never tried to initiate any contact back in our quarters, but I watched Catherine try and fail to bring him out of his shell. In another place and time I would have helped her, but as it was I couldn't. I don't think it would have helped much anyway. Trowa was so empty that more often than not I couldn't read his emotions at all. There was nothing to read.

Thus were my days until the night of "The Scoring." The Scoring was the only real evaluation for tributes. We were each given a segment of time to show off for some Alliance officials who would later give us a score based on how well they thought we'd survive in the arena. The higher the score the better. The higher the score the more sponsors we'd get.

I sat in the lobby with the other tributes waiting my turn. Heero and Duo had already presented their skills and gone back to their rooms. When Duo had passed me during his exit he'd given my shoulder a comforting squeeze and assured me that "it wasn't that bad." Trowa had disappeared through the metal door a few minutes ago and would probably emerge any moment signaling my turn. I fought the urge to pace as the nervousness of the other tributes clouded the air. I would have given anything for Trowa's indifference right then.

Twenty minutes passed before Trowa stepped out from behind the metal door. He seemed to be still intact, despite spending a longer time in the room than the previous tributes. He proceeded to exit the waiting room silently. '_What could he have been doing in there for twenty minutes?' _ I wondered. Both Heero and Duo had been ten minutes at the most. Someone pushed me from behind and I was reminded that it was still my turn.

The scoring room was more than a little unnerving. The walls were cool metal and the interior was decorated with weapons of all shapes and sizes. Mannequins were strewn across the floor or against the walls. I noticed that the area had already been prepared for my show-case since there was an assortment of fencing blades gathered on a table with two masks. The officials sat in a balcony overlooking the room, each looking very stiff and business-like. I was instantly reminded of my father back on L-4. I felt them sizing me up and winced at their dismissing feelings. They thought nothing of a privileged boy from a colony that had never caused trouble. They had no idea what I was capable of. I set my face into polite regard and began the show.

"My name is Quatre Raberba Winner." They nodded. "I'm going to be doing a fencing demonstration." They nodded again, already looking bored. One figure stood abruptly, making it's way to the door and a stairway leading down to the floor. When the door at the bottom opened I was met with the steely, gray gaze of a girl no older than myself. She was decked out in a white fencing suit, but I didn't believe for a moment that she was my appointed partner.

"Forgive me, Mr. Winner," She spoke, something in her accent making her seem sly. I felt superiority from her along with a cruel sort of curiosity. "But I volunteered myself to replace your partner. I simply had to see how The Space Prince handled a real duel." I was confused by the nickname, but I had no time to dwell on it then. Her stare reminded me of a cat's, all-knowing and predatory.

"That's quite alright, Miss..."

"Dorothy Catalonia." She smiled. "Shall we begin, Mr. Winner?"

**SORRY for the cliff-hanger. Hope you enjoyed that. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay! I am so sorry for the late update! I've been busy, but also I simply didn't want to write this chapter. I openly despise Dorothy and it pains me to write about her, but unfortunately it must be done. **

**Also please note that I've never fenced in my life! I'm writing this chapter with the sole help of Google. So if I get anything wrong and please tell me so I can change it. Much appreciated.**

**I don't own GW or The Hunger Games. Oh well.**

Chapter 8:

"Alright, Miss Dorothy," I replied. "Which blade would you like to duel with?" I'd been trained using all three types of blades and the intense power radiating off my young opponent told me she would never expose a weakness like admitting to being trained with only one sword. On the outside she was the perfect lady, but there was a churning danger underneath. How deep and dangerous I had no idea.

"Sabre. If you don't mind, Mr. Winner." She told me with a slight smile. She moved toward the table and selected two of the long swords. "Catch." She ordered tossing one of the blades toward my person. I caught it deftly and weighed the weapon in my hand. "Are you satisfied?" She asked mockingly as she watched with steely eyes.

"Of course." I reassured her with a smile. I wasn't necessarily confident in my ability to defeat the lady, but I certainly wasn't worried. Even the fact that I was being evaluated ceased to bother me for the moment, because if the officials had consented to allow one of their own to test me they must have thought I was capable of something impressive. I selected a mask and moved to one end of the fencing mat and watched as Miss Dorothy did the same. I took one deep breath and steeled myself for a battle that would most definitely be more than just a demonstration.

"En Garde!"

"Pret!" I replied.

"Allez!" She exclaimed and I had just a moment to wonder if I should have been worried after all.

I pulled a pale green shirt out of my closet and gingerly rolled it on over my head. It had been at least two months since my last fencing bout and indefinitely longer since I'd had a duel of the caliber I'd just experienced. I'd returned to my room still attempting to catch my breath and sweating in places I didn't want to think about. My whole body would ache tomorrow, but for now my hot shower had done the trick.

Dorothy had been a much fiercer opponent than I'd given her credit for. Our duel had lasted close to an hour before one of the extremely bored officials had called it to a stop. But even though the fight had lasted so long I couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't actually being tested. Dorothy had enjoyed our duel almost too much; as if she were testing the merits of a new toy not an opponent. It was intimidating to say the least.

Now I stood in my small bedroom wondering what my next step would be. I had almost decided to skip dinner and sleep instead when I heard a low rumbling from outside my window. I snapped open the curtains on my window in a rush to discover the source. '_I can't be.' _I thought.

It was.

I gazed in wonder as pellets of liquid fell to the ground. I'd never seen rain before and I could feel a smiling tearing its way across my face despite my fatigue. The rumbling sounded again much louder and I jumped slightly at the noise.

I raced into the living room nearly trampling Catherine in the process and I threw open the sliding glass door leading the the balcony. From there I stumbled toward the railing. Rain drops peppered my body, soaking my recently dried hair and skin. I squeezed the railing tightly as the strong wind slapped at my face and clothes. It was so intense. The air around me was sparked with power and I shut my eyes so I could focus on the feeling across my skin.

I couldn't tell you how long I stayed in the position, only that the next crash of sound was able to shock me back to life. I backed away from the railing and glanced around quickly for any sign of danger.

"Its only thunder." A soft voice spoke. I turned and blinked stupidly at the speaker. Some part of me must have assumed that Trowa was above my own childish displays of wonder, but lo and behold there he was, gazing out into the storm with a look of eery calm. I hadn't felt anything from him through the power of the tempest, but he must have been there since before I arrived.

"Oh." I replied, wiping some rain from my face. Still too enraptured by the wind and rain, I turned back out to the landscape, less frightened now thanks to the L-3 tribute's presence and explanation. "The Earth is so amazing." I remarked as I watched Mother Nature rage. "It's just incredible."

Sometime later we both returned indoors and went our separate ways. Nothing had really changed between Trowa and I, we'd shared barely two sentences after all, but I still felt like something significant had occurred. Somehow the quiet brunette and I had formed a connection through the storm. However strong or practical the bond was had yet to be seen, but it was most definitely there.

**Well that chapter didn't go at all the way I'd planned, but I think it turned out well enough. **

**As for the duel: I may include some flashbacks to the fight if I feel its necessary. **

**Reviews make me very happy.**

**-Loved**


	9. Chapter 9

**Alright then. It's everyone's favorite part of the games, or mine at least. That's right, folks it's time for the interviews!**

**Oh gosh, I'm so excited and I'm the one writing it!**

**Also in case nobody has picked up on it (and I don't blame you if you haven't) Quatre's training outfit was the one he wears during the first Gundam Wing opening minus the scarf.**

**His interview outfit will be the male uniform from Relena's school in the Cinq Kingdom. (Because he looked so darn adorable in it!)**

**On with the show.**

Chapter 9:

Not long after the storm Instructor H had me preparing for what he deemed the most difficult part of the games. Obviously he'd never been stuck in training with killers twice his size. I was informed that night that after the Scoring every tribute was interviewed on a live broadcast across the galaxy. "It's your final chance to gather sponsors before entering the arena." I was told and as if that wasn't pressure enough, Miss Noin seemed incredibly confident in my ability to sway any audience. She assured me that I would handle any question beautifully and gave me the barest of pointers over dinner. I was almost tempted to seek out Catherine for advice, but thought it best I didn't interfere with her or Trowa on the off chance that he found me to be a threat and felt more inclined to attack me in the arena. This belief wasn't totally unfounded.

I had noticed that both Catherine and Doctor S tended to handle the teen much like one would a wild animal. They spoke softly around him and moved very slowly whenever they had to touch him, something I realized that they avoided whenever possible. Their cautiousness made me believe he was much more dangerous that his thin frame and indifference presented and I was in no hurry to test that theory.

Needless to say, it was a stressful night. The morning was no better as Miss Noin had me in and out of my room trying on a series of increasingly "royal" costumes for my televised appearance. She finally decided that a pair of white dress pants and shirt with a powder blue vest would be fitting. I thanked her and set the suit aside for later. Truthfully, I would have agreed to anything just so the torrent of cloth would stop.

Instructor H had no special advice for me before I boarded the elevator that would take me down to the lobby that night, but I watched as Doctor S spoke quietly to Trowa for a few minutes before releasing the tall boy to the elevator. Whatever advice the doctor had given Trowa didn't seem to have any effect and his emotions were as blank as ever. On the other hand, being trapped in an enclosed space with two excited escorts proved to be a very difficult experience. Truthfully, Noin handled her excitement very well on the outside, but I was still fighting off a nervous twitch by the time the metal doors opened. Everything after the elevator ride seemed like one intensely colored blur. Clothes and bodies everywhere. Perfume curling in the air and glitter sprinkled on every surface I could see.

After being "touched up" by my stylist I was finally allowed onto the stage where most of the other tributes were already seated under the thunderous attention of the audience. Thankfully, there were less people crowding the area than the entering parade, but the force of emotion was still enough to make me take a single step back behind the curtain. I was prepared to stay there until the last possible moment, but Miss Noin had somehow seen me, how she managed to locate me through the blur was a mystery I didn't have time to investigate, and she gave me one last conspiratory smile before pushing me beyond the safety of the velvet curtain. I managed to avoid stumbling despite the roaring in my ears and buzzing in my chest, but only by sheer luck.

I was disappointed to find that Trowa had been placed between Duo and I, but after taking my seat beside the L-3 tribute I forgot any frustration he had caused. I actually had to consciously keep myself from sighing in bliss as Trowa's calm, impassiveness seeped over me. The feeling couldn't possibly overcome the audience's joy, but it was soothing nonetheless. When I looked to my friend on Trowa's other side I found the braided boy grinning and saying something to Heero, who appeared to be ignoring him.

"What a moron. Can't he tell that this isn't a game?" Someone grumbled from my other side. I glanced to my left and met with the fierce gaze of the L-5 tribute who seemed to be watching Duo's attempt at conversation. My movement had turned his attention to me and I could feel his curiosity as he sized me up. His black eyes narrowed at me.

"Wufei." He stated and I assumed that he was telling me his name.

"Quatre." I shared, offering a slight smile. Wufei didn't feel bad. Fierce for sure, but not bad. His curiosity didn't abate, but he must have been satisfied with my response, because he turned back to the increasingly loud audience. I did the same still clinging to Trowa's emotions.

It was another ten minutes before all of the tributes had assembled on stage and another five before the show started. In the center of the extremely large stage were two plush chairs. One for the interviewer and one for the interviewee. The rest of the tributes were seated in a semi-circle further back. Our interviewer was the same man as last year and the year before that. Jeremiah Ratters was his name and I watched as he strode onto the stage and took his seat with confidence. He made a short introduction and then called the first tribute up to sit opposite him.

Heero rose swiftly and marched to the large chair and the audience that had gone quiet during Ratters's introduction speech came to life again with enough force to make me flinch. From the corner of my eye I saw both Trowa and Wufei glance at me and I prayed that the camera hadn't seen my moment of weakness as well.

Ratters started off by sharing Heero's score with the audience, which turned out to be a high ten out of twelve. I actually expected it to be higher due to his intense strength, but I guess the alliance judged survivability on more than physical attributes. That gave me some hope. It turned out that Heero had been drawn from the lot on L-1. He had no family to speak of and his favorite food was peanut butter. Thus went the first interview of the games.

Duo's interview was more interesting. Once again it started with the announcement of his eight out of ten score by the alliance. Duo beamed when Ratters asked him if he had anyone waiting for him back home.

"Oh yeah, Rat!" He exclaimed. "Her name is Hilde and she's a doll." His excitement died when Ratters asked him if he thought he'd make it back to her.

"Of course I will." He said slowly sending the older man an almost glare. "You just try and keep me away." The rest of his interview went smoothly enough, though with less fervor since Duo's geniality with the man asking him questions had dimmed. He still managed to wave merrily at the audience at the conclusion of his interview, though, and he smiled at me as he took his seat.

Ratters didn't seem bothered by Duo's lack of enthusiasm and grinned broadly as he announced for Trowa to join him at the center of the stage. Trowa stood smoothly and made his way up to the empty seat. I was shocked by the absence of his calm emotion. Was it just me or was the audience even louder than it was for both Duo and Heero? If I'd focused and with a little bit of luck I might have been able to find his calm emotions again through the waves of excitement, but I didn't try. It took too much effort to just stay sitting in the chair. I had none left to spare.

Just like the other two interviews, Ratters started by declaring Trowa's eleven out of twelve score. It was impressive and once again I wondered what Trowa had presented to them in the scoring room.

"So, Trowa," Ratters began. "you were drawn through the lottery, correct?"

Trowa simply nodded at the man, his arms folded across his chest. He didn't glance at the audience once. The rest of the interview was the same. Trowa answered simply and spoke only when necessary. By the end all the audience really knew about the near-silent teen was that he'd been raised by mercenaries and wasn't scared of anything he'd meet in the arena. Of course that added to his score was probably all he would need to survive in the arena. Still I found it odd that he said he wasn't scared of anything and yet I'd never detected any over-confidence from Trowa. It was more like he just didn't care about anything he would meet in the arena.

Finally it was my turn to be scrutinized by the audience and Alliance. Fortunately, I had a moment to absorb as much of Trowa's calm as I could before venturing to the front of the stage. Ratters was waiting for me with a welcoming smile that contrasted starkly against the self-centeredness I could feel leaking off him. He announced my score, which was a disappointing seven out of twelve. '_Instructor H won't be happy about that_,' I thought. Ratters and I had a short conversation about how I thought I could win, coming from a colony of pacifists. I assured him that I would try my hardest in the arena. I knew later H would chew me out for not giving a more convincing answer, but the force of emotions bombarding my consciousness was impairing my ability to plan. Ratters also brought up my new nickname "Prince of Space", which I recognized from my bout with Miss Dorothy. Apperantly, the name originated from both my polite mannerisms on camera and the costume I wore during the parade. It was strange, but I couldn't argue against anything that might make me seem more interesting to the sponsors.

"Quatre," Ratters started. "you're one of the only two tributes who volunteered this year. Everyone is very curious about you. Tell me, did you know the girl you volunteered for?"

"No, Mr. Ratters." I answered him. "I'd never met the girl before in my life." Ratters looked mildly confused by my answer, but covered it well with another question.

"Then why did you volunteer for her?" I sighed as I thought of how I should form my reply. I doubted that anyone in the audience or Alliance would understand. They'd never had a child from their home murdered by an equally desperate child, all for a sick ruler's entertainment. They could never comprehend my reasoning.

"I did it, because it was the right thing to do." I explained. It wasn't until later, after it was too late for me to take back, that I realized what a mistake I had made.


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm so sorry for my super late update (again), but this time it's partially NOT my fault. I've been busy (not by choice).**

**The other half, sadly, was my own doing. Lately I've been obsessed with Mozart L'opera Rock which is a FANTASTIC french musical with the most amazing singers. I highly recommend it even if you don't speak french (I don't very well.) It's worth watching.**

**Anyway! I've also gotten a lot of comments wondering how I will pull off the survival of the 5 boys. All I can tell you is that they WILL survive the games and hopefully you guys won't be too disappointed in how they manage to do so. **

**Moving on. I don't own The Hunger Games or Gundam Wing.**

Chapter 10:

The commotion that met me back on Trowa and my floor was almost frightening. Instructor H and Doctor S had spread an incredible amount of papers and plans across the dining room table and stood over it mumbling and gesturing wildly at one paper or another. Noin paced in front of the couch; periodically wringing her hands or sighing in frustration. Catherine, who seemed to be the only one not feeling the panic, met us at the door with tea and sandwiches.

Trowa selected a sandwich and promptly disappeared into his room, but not before offering me a look that differed only slightly from his normal blankness. For I moment I even sensed curiosity from him, but it was gone before I could offer him a matching look of confusion. Catherine followed the young man down the hall spouting encouragements and praise for his interview all the way.

I advanced toward Noin in an attempt to find an explanation for the worry and anxiousness simmering throughout the room. She looked at me and at once I saw that all the conspiracy and friendliness was gone.

"Oh, Quatre!" She sighed. "Everything was going so well. You were perfect! How could you go and throw it all away?"

"Throw what away, Miss Noin? What did I do?" I asked in wonder. I heard a distinct snort from the direction of the dining room where the mentors stood.

"What you did, boy, is ruin any chance you had at surviving these games. Bravo, boy, bravo." Instructor H called. Superiority and anger rolling off him savagely. Now I was frustrated as well.

"What are you talking about?" I snapped at him, very uncharacteristically. I couldn't help it. My life was in his hands and he was telling me that I was as good as dead and by my own means. He snorted at me again and joined Noin and I in the living room.

"Quatre," Noin said softly, setting a hand on my shoulder in comfort. "When you said that you saved that girl 'because it was the right thing to do' you told The Alliance they were wrong. You made them, and the world, finally face the fact that what they do is horrible and _wrong_."

"But, I..." I began not knowing what to say. I'd been so overwhelmed downstairs that I hadn't thought about what I was saying. How could I make such a mistake? How could I not sense the shock of the audience? Of course, it was because I was just so grateful to have a reprieve from the constant excitement.

"There's no way The Alliance will let someone like you live." H assured me and I was at a loss. He was right. I was doomed. Now, even if I managed to avoid death by another tribute, The Alliance would send every unfortunate "accident" my way in an attempt to kill me before I could say anymore. I'd seen it happen before in past games.

Noin tried to comfort me. She thought up all sorts of unreasonable plans for how I could fight my way through the arena, but we both knew they wouldn't succeed. Tonight I had spoken my own execution. In silence I stumbled back to my room, locking the door behind me. Once I was alone I relaxed my nerves enough to explode in frustration.

I screamed loud enough that my voiced cracked and I pounded the walls like some deranged ape. I ripped the sheets and blanket from my bed and flung them around the room. I threw open my closet and tore the clothes that weren't really mine from their hangers. Everything I touched was sent sailing across the room in my attempt to free the pandemonium I felt. I was so … mad. In both the emotional and mental way. I was furious with The Alliance for putting me in this situation. I was furious at Instructor H for telling me what I'd done. I was furious at myself for being so dumb. I was even furious at Elle for being chosen in the first place, but I felt guilty for that anger. She had nothing to do with my idiotic mistake. Finally, my hands found Rashid's goggles where they rested on my bedside table. I gripped them in an angry fist, but stopped a breath before tossing them. Rashid was my friend. The one who believed that I would return home to him and his group. Rashid, who taught me to defend myself against the unforeseen. I would never see him or my colony again now. I would never return the dear goggles that he entrusted me with. All because I'd been careless.

I collapsed into a heap of misery just inches from the bed and buried my face into my hands with fierce sadness. I squeezed my eyes against the tears, but they fell anyway. My body was trying to release the defeat, the disappointment, but I wouldn't let it. I held on to those emotions, because I wanted to feel my own stupidity. I wanted to punish myself for ruining everything.

I was a dead man and it wall all my own fault.

Sometimes later, I was too dazed to know how much time had passed, Noin knocked on the door. Rather than stand and make my way over like a normal human being I continued to wallow in my defeat by scooting across the carpet to the door. It was weak, but I didn't care.

Noin cleaned me up and got me changed; all the while sighing my name in exasperation and sympathy. I could feel that she was sincere, but that didn't matter really. Finally, she got me settled under the sheets of my newly made bed and retreated back to the hall. In the corridor I could hear her speak softly to someone, but I was too exhausted to distinguish words. It was strange, I felt empty and yet full of emotion all at once.

It was completely unexpected and somewhat shocking when the next person to enter my room that night was Trowa Barton. He didn't seem particularly happy to be there either and I picked up on wispy streams of uncertainty and something akin to nervousness as he stepped toward me. I just watched him without caring if it made him uncomfortable, because as far as I knew nothing could disturb the L-3 tribute. He sat silently in the arm chair near my bed and watched me in return. This lasted for some time since neither of us was in the mood to speak at the moment.

Eventually, he opened his mouth to form words.

"Catherine sent me." He spoke in his soft voice. I probably could have figured that out if I'd wanted to, but I was much too hopeless to care why he was there.

We sank into silence again and, bored, I turned my attention to examining the features of my complex companion. From this distance I could see Trowa's face much more clearly. He had a small scar under one eye, the one that wasn't covered by his layered brown hair. He also had dark eyes, though I couldn't decipher the color through the dark of my room; the only light being that coming in from the hall. I'm not sure how long it took me to make these observations, but I had just moved on to Trowa's strange hair style when he spoke again.

"You can still survive." He voiced quietly, arms crossed and looking at the floor. "You're smart and observant. You could win."

This simple statement shocked me like a spark instantly, as if the heavy clouds had finally broken. It wasn't necessarily that I believed him, but more the fact that someone, that Trowa, still thought I could live. I couldn't feel any reassurance in his emotions so I sought his eyes through the gloom. Anything to prove that he wasn't lying to me. After a moment he met my gaze and, though his stare was as closed as always, I knew he had meant what he said. Some part of my consciousness understood that.

"You'll do much better in the arena than I ever could." I told him. "Everyone already expects you to win. You or Heero, that is." I watched as Trowa slumped forward slightly and broke our eye contact. Whispers of something dark and sad reached my heart and I wanted to reach out my hand to him. I was overcome by a need similar to what drove me to volunteer in the first palce. I wanted to do something, anything, to extinguish that horrible feeling I was only getting the barest taste of. Just that small slip of emotion from him created a painful sensation in my soul. I stopped before that idea could find a hold in my mind, though. Trowa and I weren't friends and he wouldn't appreciate my touch, whether I meant well or not.

He left me alone a few minutes later and I listened to the swish of his near silent steps until I couldn't anymore. Tomorrow there would be no quiet stares for us to share. Tomorrow there would only be struggle and death.

**Wow. So that turned out a bit more angsty than I planned. **

**Oh well. Nothing wrong with a bit of drama. Builds character. **

**Until next time.**

**-Loved-chan**


	11. Chapter 11

**Well, here we are again. Long time no see, huh?**

**I'm so very very sorry for not updating in so long. Things have been very busy and to be honest I forgot about this story for awhile. I promise to not let it die, though! And I hope you all forgive me for this long absence. **

**So before we begin I have a bit of a funny story to share (funny to me anyway.)**

**My friend and I have a Trowa and Quatre cosplay going on (me as Trowa and her as Quatre)**

**And we decided to go to the movies in costume! **

**My wonderful Quatre manipulated me into seeing Sinister against my will and about half-way through we mutually decided that the movie was obviously a trap set up by the Alliance and we left to play shoot 'em up and racing games in the lobby.**

**It was a trap. We, seasoned Gundam pilots, weren't scared. Impossible.**

**As always I don't own The Hunger Games or Gundam Wing**

Chapter 11:

There are no words to describe how I felt the morning of the games. We all gathered in the dining room one last time for breakfast that morning. Trowa and I sat side by side, heads down and concentrating on our food although we seemed to have very opposing impressions on the meal. My stomach was tied in painful knots, but I forced down some food. I had to remind myself that this could be my last real meal for awhile, possibly forever. Trowa, on the other hand, sat staring at his food blandly. Sometimes he moved a bit around his plate so it looked like he'd eaten, but that was all. I would have mentioned to him that he should build up his strength for the arena, but Catherine had already reminded him numerous times to no effect. I couldn't understand it. I didn't sense any fear or sadness from him. In fact, the only feeling I could decipher from the whole room was that of anxiousness. Even Instructor H's sinister superiority had taken a holiday this morning. That only served to make me more nervous.

Miss Noin attempted to draw some conversation from me a few times, but eventually gave up after receiving enough one word answers and solemn nods. It was rude behavior on my part, but I knew she'd forgive me for not being genial the morning of my execution. Essentially that's what today was. It didn't matter what kind words Trowa told me or how many days I really managed to last in the arena. I was never going to return to L4.

After breakfast I returned to my room. Miss Noin had placed my arena attire in my closet on our first night in the Capitol. That entire night I could feel the garments staring at me through the closet doors, judging me and my ability to survive in the coming battle. Needless to say, they'd been moved to the back of the closet until I absolutely had to retrieve them. Now I reached back into the confines of the storage area and drew them out.

The clothing itself wasn't much to look at. It appeared to be a simple, tight-fitting jumpsuit with a matching light, thermal jacket and pair of boots. Upon dressing I noticed two things, though. First, I came to find that the jumpsuit was made of some spandex-type material, which I wasn't entirely pleased about, and second, that Miss Noin had acquired the suit a size too big, ensuring that it didn't fit too tightly, which pleased me greatly.

I emerged from the room a few minutes later to find the floor vacant of the L3 tribute and his entourage. Miss Noin, who appeared to have been pacing in my absence, turned to me immediately. She looked me over once before taking hold of my arm and leading me to the elevator Instructor H had already entered. We rode in silence; the nervousness nearly overpowering me in the small, enclosed space. I wished I'd taken the stairs instead.

When we finally reached the bottom floor the doors opened to reveal a torrent of emotions and tributes rushing out of the building armed with their escorts and mentors. Miss Noin took hold of my upper arm again and led me toward one helicopter of many that sat, chopping loudly at the air outside. When we were just a few feet away she stopped me, suddenly. I opened my mouth to question her when she wrapped me into a forceful hug. In confusion, I returned her embrace. She released me a few moments later and offered me a smile that corresponded perfectly with the pitying emotions wafting off her.

I watched tears rise up in her eyes as she cleared her throat, thrusting me toward the helicopter.

"You'll do just wonderfully, Quatre. I know you will."

**Again! So sorry for the late updates. School has been kicking my booty all year, but now that summer is here I promise to update more.  
Also this chapter was really short so expect an update soon. **


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